Falling through the hour glass
by m3rwh0l0ck3d
Summary: A set of one shot type pieces focusing around Arthur's return and Merlin's wait. Some humour, some angst, some set before the return, some set after. All out of order (just as a warning)


**A/N: **This is going to be less of a fic and more of a collection of drabbles about Arthurs return.

As usual, I don't Merlin or any other shows/fandoms that may appear from time to time.

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The end of the world began at around 9pm on the 23rd of November by a small lake somewhere in Gloucestershire and, as usual, it was raining. It had been doing that alot lately.

It had been subtle changes in the weather patterns that had first alerted Merlin that something was happening. After over a millenia of watching the world, he knew what was natural and what wasn't. The so called "experts", the scientists, had put the constant drizzle down to global warming, saying that if we weren't careful then the planet would die, taking the human race with it. How right, but at the same time how very wrong they had been.

Merlin shivered slightly, water dripping down his face, and he pulled his tan overcoat tighter around his shoulders as he hurried out of the driveway of his home, a large manor house set on top of a steep hill, overlooking the lake below.

He'd had the house built a few years after the final fall of Camelot. With the last remnants of his civilisation gone, the only thing he had left to do was wait for it to be reborn from the ashes.

The picturesque village of Leadworth had sprung up on the opposite shore of the lake around 200 years ago as a place for the rich factory owners away from the dirty cities with their crowded streets, although right now, it was mostly populated with the elderly and the infirm. The distance he lived away from his nearest neighbour - about 3 miles- combined with the stone wall constructed right around the property meant that he was usually left alone.

To much of the village population, he was something of an enigma. His "father" an eccentric, if mostly harmless man had died around 3 years ago, leaving the house to his only son. Unbeknown to the villagers, they were the same men. Thankful to shed his disguise of old age and aching bones, Merlin had thrown himself back into modern life, updating the house with expensive goods and fast cars, barely dinting the vast fortune he had obtained over the years.

The intensity of the rain increased as Merlin neared the shores of the lake where the water gently lapped upon the sandy beach. Tonight was the night, he could feel it. For a few years now he had been feeling it; a gentle tug on his magic and it was only because of it that he had finally shed his elderly disguise and returned to his much younger, stronger body. Over the course of the last 24 hours, the feeling had been increasing and by nightfall, it was a physical pain within his body.

His eyes desperately scanned the water, despite the fact that it was too dark to see.

"Come back Arthur," he muttered as he had done so many times before. The last syllable had barely fell from his lips when the sky split open and shining white light burst forth. Time stopped as the rain ceased to fall, droplets of water suspended midair. On the edge of his hearing, Merlin heard a faint hiss, like the drawn out tick of a clock. The ripples on the water ceased to move and for a long moment, all was completely silent.

He stared into the disc of light before him, light so bright it should've burned his eyes, yet he didn't feel anything. Shadows swirled around the base of it like smoke from a freshly burning fire.

"Merlin." A voice, a whisper arrived in his head but his ears swore they hadn't heard it.

"Merlin!" it - no she- repeated, louder this time. Letting out a choked cry he sank to the floor as his knees buckled beneath him. It had been so long since he had last heard Freya's soft, gentle voice.

"Freya!" He sobbed aloud as the tears began to stream down his face.

"There isn't much time," she replied serenely. "Theres a war coming Merlin, a war that's unlike anything that has ever been fought before and fate of mankind rests on your shoulders. It's time to step out of the shadows and reunite Albion. But you cannot save the world alone. Strangers must become friends and friends must become allies. You need Arthur if you are to stand any chance of suceeding."

He looked up from his lap and stared across the lake as the smokelike shadows morphed into figures.

"But it's been so long. I'm not sure I can," he murmered sorrowfully.

"No Merlin!" Freya admonished, causing the warlock to start. "You can and you must or the world with pay the price. You are the only hope we have and you must not fail."

"Will you be here? All these years and I still love you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Yes." She replied and he could almost hear her smile as she did so. "We will meet again, I am sure."

"When? Where?" Merlin tried to say, but her voice was fading now, the real world was rushing back.

"Good luck."

The gate of light snapped shut suddenly and a noise akin to a thousand cannons, loud enough to shatter the skin of the world exploded across the water.

The rain began to fall again, pattering softly to the ground. Ears ringing, head spinning, Merlin scrambled to his feet, not noticing his shaking limbs and tear stained cheeks.

Raised voices and unnatural splashes forced him back to his senses.

"Léohtfruma áblicgan ufenan!" He yelled as he ran for the waters edge, eyes flashing gold.

A pale blue orb grew out of the air in front of him and shot upwards, illuminating the land below with an eiree glow.

The warlock splashed into the lake, a broad grin across his face despitebthe tears that still fell, as he recognised the men wading from the water. He caught a brief glimpse of the leader, a tall man with blonde hair and broad shoulders before he clattered into the arms of his king, friend and brother. They embraced in the shallows for a moment, as the voies around them escalated, all filled with excitment, all asking for information.

Well almost all.

"Bugger!" a voice yelled, which as the first words in a new life go, isn't particularly inspiring. Merlin broke free from the crowd of bodies to look towards the source of the noise. There was Gwaine, lying spread eagled on the ground, tawny hair splayed out across the sand, having just tripped over a large boulder, proving that even with over a thousand years of the afterlife, some things just don't change.

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So what do you think? Please review and if you have any prompts or ideas for later chapters, please be sure to let me know!


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